


My Best Isn't Good Enough (But Maybe Yours Is)

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 01:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10294463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: A rough night leads to Dick crashing in Jason's apartment, needing some patchwork. But when he learns just how badly the night went, he needs more than stitches to clean up his wounds.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission! I sort of let it get out of hand, but hurt/comfort is such a good trope.

Dick swallowed, his throat feeling dry, as he slowly came to consciousness. He was on something soft, but his body ached, his head pounding, an echoing of the same sort of pain in one of his thighs. He groaned, rubbed his hand along what had to be a sheet, this _had_ to be a bed, nothing else was this comforting. And he swore it was heaven, despite how badly he hurt.

 

He made a little noise, some sort of groan, and heard the sound of the floor creaking, of someone moving. He cracked his eyes open, lifting his head, but he felt heavy, sluggish. He blinked back the blurred vision of sleep, and saw Jason bending over slightly, studying him.

 

“Jay?” he mumbled, and his tongue felt like dead weight in his mouth. Jason offered a very small smile.

 

“Hey goldie, good to see you awake.” He reached out, hesitated for a moment, before brushing his hand back through Dick’s hair, moving it from his line of vision. Dick gave a little pleased noise, wanted Jason to do it again, but he was pulling back. “Do you need anything?”

 

“Thirsty,” Dick croaked, and god, was _that_ his voice? But Jason didn’t say a word, just hurried from the side of the bed. Dick forced himself to roll onto his back, to squirm up into the pillows so he was propped up. A quick look around the room, and he knew this wasn’t his place, wasn’t the Manor-

 

This was Jason’s apartment. Not a quick safe house, Dick was fairly sure. But his _home_.

 

He glanced at the doorway when Jason came back, holding a cup with a _straw_. Dick wouldn’t have expected him to have anything like that lying around- it had little polka dots on it, when Jason got closer and he could see. Jason handed him the cup, and Dick took it gladly, slid the straw between his lips and sucked.

 

“Slow,” Jason said, reaching out, rubbing one of Dick’s biceps. Dick choked, pulled away from the straw to cough, feigned having inhaled the water, to hide the shock of Jason’s gentle touch. “See? You’ll choke. Also you’re still on some heavy meds. It could mess with your stomach.”

 

Dick popped the straw back in his mouth, drank slowly now. His eyes glanced over Jason’s face, taking in the bags under his eyes, the split lip. He looked exhausted and a bit worse for wear himself.

 

“Mwhaat mappened?” he mumbled, the straw impeding his speech. He only had vague images of the past night.

 

Jason frowned, reaching for the cup as Dick sucked on nothing but air now. He took it, held it in both his hands as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Just a night gone wrong wonder boy. Happens.” Dick frowned, his head still pounding, acutely more aware of all the aches in his body. There was a soreness to his ribs, and deep breaths made it worse. Pulled muscles, probably a cracked rib. Nothing _new_.

 

He set his hands down in his lap, then gasped when he hit a tender spot. He tore the blanket down, needing to see, and Jason averted his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. There was a large bandage around one of Dick’s thighs, and when he so much as pressed his fingertips to it, it stung so badly he gasped.

 

“Bullet,” Jason said, “it was lodged in. It was… a bitch to get out. You moved a lot.” He huffed, staring down at the floor. “I filled you with morphine so I could get it out and stitch you up. Another one grazed your other leg, and there’s a knife wound on your calf. That one’s shallow at least.” Jason licked his lips. “I may have overdone it with the morphine. You slept the whole day.”

 

Dick swallowed, mind trying to race through what had _happened_ . It was a simple bust, that was all. Weapons trafficking that they’d tracked through the ring’s head’s visits to Penguin’s casino. He got drunk and sloppy and spent a lot of money, and it made the job easy. _He thought_.

 

“As long as we cleaned house,” Dick said, reaching up and rubbing at his temples. “All that matters.” When Jason was _silent_ , Dick felt his stomach drop. He stared, and Jason glanced at him, before standing up. “Jason-”

 

“Don’t ask, Dick. You won’t like it.” Dick reached out, grasped his wrist, squeezed, and Jason huffed loudly. “We _didn’t_. He got away with his men and his merch and there were… casualties.”

 

Dick felt his mouth going dry again. “ _What_?”

 

“Two of the wait staff who were serving his party’s champagne went down. And one of the hired girls Penguin keeps on hand…” Jason shook his head. “He slit her throat when we went down.”

 

Dick felt his stomach flip, felt suddenly _sick_ , like all the water he’d drunk was going to come back up. He clamped his mouth shut, felt his chest aching, taking over the hurt of everything else.

 

“I’m going to get you some more painkillers,” Jason said, heading for the door, pausing when he reached it. “You’re gonna need ‘em.”

 

*

 

Dick found that walking on his leg with the bullet wound was _hard_ . He’d spent ten minutes limping to the bathroom once, determined to not let Jason help him. Too stubborn, too like Bruce because he was _angry_ with himself.

 

Three people were dead. Three people who he could have saved, if he hadn’t fallen. And he spent the evening wracking his brain, trying to piece it together. He’d been _sloppy_ , it had to be that. There was no other way, circumstances didn’t matter, he could _overcome_ those.

 

There was a knock at the bedroom door, after the sun and set. Dick had his phone, Jason had _charged_ it for him, had been torturing himself by reading the news articles and blog posts about the disaster. He’d seen their _pictures_ and he’d tracked down their Instagrams, Twitters, Facebooks. He was trying to learn the people who had died because of him.

 

“Hey,” Jason said, popping his head in. “Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten today. I can make something.”

 

Dick shook his head, not looking up. His thumb slid along his phone screen, his chest caving in. He didn’t even hear Jason cross the room, but he did feel the bed dip, as Jason settled in, leaning into Dick’s space, chest just grazing his arm, shoulder, so he could glance at the phone.

 

One of the waiters was plastered all over Dick’s screen. Dick had his Instagram open. “Dick-”

 

“He was getting married in two months,” Dick said, clicking on a photo and turning the phone more, so Jason could clearly see the man grinning as another man kissed his cheek. “ _Two months_ . They were going to move out of Gotham, even.” He shook his head. “And the woman? She had sole custody of her younger sister. The other waiter? A student by day. They all had lives and people who loved them and I let them _die_.”

 

Jason reached for Dick’s phone, took it and tossed it towards the edge of the bed. “Dick, _stop_ .” Jason reached for his face, gripped his chin and forced him to turn, to stare into his gray eyes. “Don’t pull this shit. You’re not _him_ , you don’t get to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t get to carry their deaths. _We_ were both there. Which means _we_ both lost them. But you did your best-”

 

“Then my best isn’t good enough.” Dick pushed Jason’s hand off. “I need to make sure their families are taken care of. Their funeral costs covered.”

 

“Already done.” Jason lifted his hand again, like he wanted to touch Dick, but then it fell back to his lap. “I made the calls while you were still sleeping. Bruce said they would be taken care of.” Jason reached up, raked a hand back through his hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

“It’s _not_. They’re still dead Jason. And I could have stopped it.” Dick leaned forward, wrapping his arms around himself. His ribs hurt in this position, but he almost wanted them to. Figured he deserved it.

 

Jason frowned, before he stood up, shaking his head. “Fine Dick. If you wanna brood and be like _him_ , go for it. Whatever floats your damn boat.” Jason hurried out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him, and Dick figured it was for the better anyway. He and Jason had been getting _along_ and it just couldn’t last. It never did.

 

Go figure he’d fuck that up, too.

 

*

 

Dick worked into the night. He tormented himself by learning everything he could, until his eyes burned with exhaustion. He texted Bruce- because he _knew_ he wouldn’t pick up his call- and Bruce confirmed Jason had reached out to him. That the families would be taken care of.

 

Dick asked if he could set up a college fund for the young sister left behind, asked if there was family they could possibly track down to keep her out of the system. And Bruce _promised_ to look into it for him.

 

He was exhausted, but Dick didn’t want to stop. He hadn’t eaten, and the last round of painkillers Jason had silently left for him were still untouched on the nightstand. His leg was throbbing, but Dick wondered if he could get enough support in his suit that it wouldn’t matter, that maybe he could just go out, for appearances sake-

 

But the memory of each limping trip to the bathroom told him it was _impossible_ . And that made him angrier, made him feel weak, helpless. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been laid up before, and this wouldn’t even be that _long_ he was sure- but he was taking this personally. _Very_.

 

The door opened for the first time in well over an hour, and Jason filled the doorway. He looked at Dick, long and silently, and Dick almost squirmed under that stare, like Jason was trying to peel back his skin and study the shapes of his bones, their density, if they would _hold up_ to this. It was almost a relief when he moved, even though it was towards Dick.

 

“You said I slept all day,” Dick started, letting his hands drop to his lap, his phone idle. The battery was dying. Jason nodded. “Where did… you sleep?”

 

Jason reached up, rubbed the back of his neck. “The couch,” he said, “where I will tonight.”

 

“You can’t,” Dick said, pressing his hands into the bed. “I’ll sleep on it, and I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. I should have left when I woke up, I’m sorry.”

 

Jason groaned, sitting down heavily on the bed, but not facing Dick. His back was to him, as he rested his elbows on his thighs, stared at the open door now. “You’re an idiot,” he mumbled, and Dick wasn’t _shocked_ . “And you do too much and you think you need to be _perfect_. I hate you for it, you know?”

 

Dick hung his head, saying nothing. Yeah, he _knew_ . Knew that things were never as good with Jason as he hoped they would be. Knew he had plenty of reason to _dislike_ Dick, to say the least.

 

“And yet,” Jason said, softly, “I keep coming back to you.” Dick didn’t lift his head, confused, and heard the bed groaning, as Jason turned. Then his hand was sliding along his chin, cupping his cheek, lifting his head very gently. It was turned, and Dick stared up, felt his breath catching because Jason’s eyes weren’t hard, didn’t feel like bullets. They were _soft_ , they were almost sad. Jason didn’t say anything else, simply rubbed his thumb along Dick’s cheek, and Dick sucked at his tongue, liked the touch _too much_.

 

He thought back to Jason brushing his hair back earlier, thought back to every hug he’d ever managed to steal from him.

 

“You don’t need to go,” Jason said, before he cleared his throat, correcting- “I don’t _want_ you to go. Stay here with me. Let me take care of you.” He slid a little closer, and Dick reached up, grasped at his arm. He felt bandages as Jason’s shirt sleeve slid back, and his eyes tried to glance at it.

 

“You’re hurt,” he mumbled, and Jason, he _laughed_ over that.

 

“Yeah. Took a knife in the arm. The stitches are _atrocious_ , don’t look underneath. Bullet grazed my side too, but hey, I can move. I’m breathin’.” Dick frowned, as Jason tipped his chin up. “I’m more worried about you.” Jason leaned in, and Dick let his eyes slide shut as Jason’s lips grazed the center of his forehead. His mouth was warm, and Dick squeezed his arm, felt Jason go tense but _god_ his breathing stayed steady. “Now,” Jason mumbled, “take your meds. I cooked dinner and I’m bringing you some, and you’re going eat it, okay?”

 

Dick nodded slowly, couldn’t bring himself to stop. His skin felt warm where Jason had kissed, and Dick didn’t want him to get up, to leave. Wanted him to sit there and kiss the bridge of his nose, his cheek, the corner of his mouth-

 

He wanted to _kiss Jason_ and he wasn’t sure he’d ever really thought of that before.

 

*

 

Dick ate too much. He _knew_ he did, but he so easily forgot that Jason cooked circles around any of them, that Alfred could actually be _proud_ of his kitchen skills. And he’d gone the whole day without eating, which was so _unlike_ him.

 

Dick stretched out on his back, his phone clearly out of reach, resting on Jason’s dresser, charging. Jason had killed the lights after helping Dick back to bed, and Dick thought maybe he could sleep. Just a little.

 

“Need anything?” Jason asked, poking his head in. The apartment behind him was dark, and Dick realized Jason was probably turning in too. That he couldn’t have slept very well, and _god_ he still felt bad he was sleeping on the couch in his own damn apartment.

 

“You to not sleep on the couch,” Dick offered, and Jason laughed, actually _laughed_.

 

“No real other options Dickiebird. Just one bed in this place.”

 

“It’s big enough.” Dick spoke before he could stop himself, and he was glad it was dark, because he wanted to hide the moment the words left his mouth. What a _stupid_ thing to suggest, of course Jason didn’t want to bed down with him.

 

Except the door was opening and then closing, and Jason’s bare feet were crossing the room. Dick felt the blanket being pulled back, then the dip of the bed as Jason crawled in, sprawling out on his back. He tucked one arm up behind his head as he said, “Don’t ever tease me, goldie.”

 

Dick licked his lips. Maybe he _wanted_ to- but just a little. Instead he lay there, staring up at the same dark ceiling, feeling the heat radiating off of Jason, so damn _close_.

 

“Are you always warm?” he asked, because he was _nervous_ which meant he had to talk, had to spew out the first few thoughts that came to mind. But _god_ why was he nervous anyway? It was just Jason. Jason who hated him and yet couldn’t get _away_ , who touched him tenderly, who had bandaged him up and put a roof over his head for the past twenty-four hours, who kept trying to talk him down from going full on _Bruce_ with his brooding.

 

Just Jason fucking Todd in all the glory no one ever thought he had.

 

“I am now,” Jason said, “different when I was a kid. Scrawnier then.”

 

Dick snorted. “You’re the exact _opposite_ now.”

 

“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason turned his head, glanced at Dick, who caught it from the corner of his eye. “Pretty sure you’re the one that ate as much as a horde of teenage boys.” Dick snorted, rolled onto his side and shoved at Jason. It hurt his leg, his ribs, but Dick could ignore it, because he was _laughing_.

 

“You’re just angry it never shows on me,” Dick taunted, “I look good in my suit no matter what.”

 

“Damn right you do.” Jason offered a grin, easy and warm, and Dick paused his shoving, his hands just resting on Jason now. “But you’re the pretty one, right?”

 

“I mean…” Dick bit his lip, felt a little- or a lot- silly, in that moment, because he was _smooth_ and he knew he could be and _god why did it matter it was Jason_? “You’re pretty.”

 

Jason snorted. “You hurt your eyes too Dick?”

 

“Maybe not always _pretty_ ,” Dick continued, “but sometimes you are. You _were_ , when you were younger.” Dick slid his hand up over Jason’s waist, rested it flat on his belly, could feel the subtle movements of his breathing through his shirt. “Your eyes are still pretty.”

 

Jason huffed, before reaching out, grasping Dick’s bicep, jerking him up until Dick was leaning over him, was too close, was breathing against Jason’s mouth and chin. “You’re pretty _lame_ , you know that?” he asked, and Dick, he kept glancing down at Jason’s mouth, he couldn’t _help it_. “So I’m not sure what it says about me that I like it.”

 

Before Dick could even smile, Jason was tipping his head slightly, leaning up. His mouth slid very softly over Dick’s, the briefest of kisses, but still a _kiss_ at the end of it. And when Jason eased back, Dick just stared down at him, felt one of Jason’s hands rubbing on his arm.

 

“Or that I’ve wanted to do that since I was wearing your shorts and cape,” he admitted. Dick felt a single tremble rush through him, so hard he felt dizzy, and then he was crashing his mouth down onto Jason’s. The kiss was desperate, was mostly Dick just wanting to get close, but Jason’s large hand wrapped around his forearm, held tight, and he _groaned_ into it. Dick shivered again, didn’t bother to try and even reason through it-

 

Not when it felt good. Not when it made him forget the stabbing ache in his leg, the guilt in his belly. Not when Jason was warm and he smelled _good_ and he just- he was there, and Dick needed him there.

 

“Dick,” Jason breathed, as Dick nipped at his lower lip, tugged it between his teeth. It was anything but innocent, a far cry from Jason’s single kiss, but Dick had a habit of channeling his guilt, his anxiety, into sex. And it only seemed fitting…

 

He tossed one leg of Jason, crawled up over him. His leg protested and he gave a pained groan, but shoved his mouth right back against Jason’s anyway. He slid along him, the sweatpants he’d borrowed from Jason after waking up sliding down his hips, showing the waistband of his briefs as his tshirt rode up,as Jason’s hands slid up _beneath_ it, to hold at his bare waist.

 

And then he was squeezing, gently pushing Dick up, away. Dick whined, but Jason was shaking his head. “Slow down,” he said, his fingers curling into Dick’s dark skin. Dick said nothing, just stared down with dark, wild eyes- sparkling blue and needing to just get lost in something, to forget it all for a night.

 

Jason’s eyes softened more- and they looked a little sad.

 

“I know you,” he said, “I know what you’re doing. But I can’t _let_ you.” Jason slid his hand down, until his fingers were dusting the elastic of Dick’s briefs, and then his sweats. “Not tonight. Now, lay down before you aggravate your leg.”

 

Dick didn’t move for a moment, wasn’t sure if he _could_ . But then Jason’s hands gently guided him to the side, and Dick eased off him, winced because his leg was _not_ happy. But he slid down to the bed by Jason’s side, and Jason kept his arm around him, pulled him closer until Dick was nestled up to the side of his chest.

 

“Try something different tonight,” Jason mumbled. He sounded tired, down to his bones. “Try just closing your eyes and existing, Dick. Try just existing _with me_.”

 

It sounded like a plea, like Jason was grasping for something, and Dick didn’t know how to give it to him. He didn’t know how to turn himself off, how to get his brain to stop churning, his mouth to stop moving, his body to stop screaming. But he pressed his face into Jason’s chest, hooked an arm around him, inhaled his scent slowly, let his toes curl over it.

 

He’d try. Tonight, he’d try.

 

*

 

Dick woke up with his face pressed into firm heat. He was on his belly, sprawled out, his bad leg thrown over both of Jason’s. It didn’t hurt so long as he didn’t move, and he realized he didn’t _want_ to. Jason’s chest rose and fell softly, was soothing, and Dick nuzzled against it more, clinging with one arm as Jason grumbled something, placed his hand on the small of Dick’s back where his shirt had rode up.

 

His skin was fire, and Dick barely kept a groan in.

 

He felt Jason’s fingers curl, and then a gruff “G’morning.” Dick smiled to himself, liked that Jason was hoarse in the morning.

 

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, “you’re comfortable.”

 

Jason laughed, and Dick moved with it. He shivered, didn’t bother to fight it down. “You get some sleep?” Dick nodded, and Jason lifted his head, kissed the top of Dick’s. “Good. Now,” he reached down, patted Dick’s butt, “move yourself for a minute.”

 

Dick smiled, rolled off Jason, winced over the way his leg disagreed with the decision. But he sprawled out on his back as Jason sat up, reached his arms up over his head and stretched. Dick wished he could see the muscles of his back moving as he did so, cursed the tshirt in the way.

 

Jason stood up, heading for the door. Dick let him go, chose to close his eyes, to drift in his still just waking state. He had slept _well_ , which, all things considered, was strange. Restlessness would have been expected, embraced even. But he’d slept like he was dead, dreamlessly.

 

When Jason came back, he set a glass and a few pills on the nightstand. Then he bent over, brushed Dick’s hair back, kissed his forehead. “Take those,” he said, and his voice was still gravely. “I need to change your bandage, and maybe we can get you a shower.”

 

Dick smiled. “Yeah? Going to get in with me and keep me steady?”

 

Jason chuckled, continued to toy with Dick’s hair. “Easy wonder boy, we haven’t even had a date yet.”

 

Dick swallowed thickly, and wondered if that was a joke or- “Does that mean you’d want to?”

 

“I could be convinced.” He kissed the bridge of Dick’s nose now, and Dick scrunched his face up. “But for now how about I make some breakfast. Pancakes?” Dick nodded, and Jason straightened up, movied across the room to get Dick’s phone without being asked, passing it over to him with a fond look.

 

“So you’re making me breakfast,” Dick said, “and I _didn’t_ have to sleep with you?”

 

Jason laughed, bent down one more time to kiss Dick’s lips softly. “Yeah,” he whispered, “maybe I’m a bit of a romantic at heart.”

 

“If you shape my pancake like a heart, I’m considering it a better proposal than a ring.”

 

Jason stood up, shaking his head, but his smile was _gorgeous_ and made Dick feel like the world was lifting, right off his back. “Don’t rush me,” he chided, even as his eyes danced. “And take your medicine.”

 

“Yes _mom_.” Dick stuck his tongue out, and Jason made a face back- before they both dissolved into laughter. Jason covered his mouth as he headed for the door, the sound muffled but still there, and Dick turned, grasped at Jason’s pillow and pressed his face into it, inhaling.

 

The moment would pass, he knew. He’d unlock his phone and see where he left off studying the lives of those he couldn’t _save_ , and the guilt would come crawling back up his gut. But he’d take these last few minutes of freedom- and he’d accept the fact that the guilt might fade again, if Jason kissed him. Might fade over breakfast.

 

Maybe Jason could help him _deal_ with it, if he just opened up, gave him a chance. And Dick figured he owed Jason that much, at least.


End file.
